by Amy Bratley
I looked at her steadily, my fingers rubbing the base of my iced coffee glass.
‘It’s not about Dad,’ I said, taking a deep breath and wondering for a second if I was going to be sick. ‘Daisy, I know . . . I know . . . you slept with Ethan.’
Alarm crossed Daisy’s face. She took a sharp intake of breath. She didn’t deny it. After a few moments, she nodded once, but said nothing, looking at her hands. She lifted her hand and covered her mouth, biting down on her finger, gnawing at the knuckle.
‘Why?’ I said, my knee jiggling furiously and voice shaking with anger now. ‘Look at me, Daisy. Face me.’
Daisy lifted her eyes to meet mine. Hers were pooling with sudden tears, her cheeks pink with embarrassment. She wrapped her arms around her waist and leaned forward in her chair. A man pushed past my chair asking if I could move in a little. I ignored him, so he shoved past me.
‘Hey!’ I said angrily.
‘I’m sorry,’ Daisy whispered.
‘But why?’ I asked. ‘Why would you do that? Daisy, we’re sisters. To do that . . . is . . . is . . . it’s just the lowest of the low . . . I never thought you’d do anything like that . . . I can’t understand why . . . I mean, do you hate me or something? I thought you didn’t even like Ethan. And when Ethan left, you—’
I gulped at the memory of Daisy coming to my flat with a bag of ingredients, forcing me to get up and cook pancakes and bacon and maple syrup, just to get me to do something I loved and to eat food I loved. She had stayed with me all night long, her arms around me, listening to me talk and cry about Ethan. She had been such an amazing comfort, it had seemed like she was enjoying the role, enjoying my vulnerability because then she was in control. Then, I needed her.
‘When he left you comforted me and pretended you knew nothing about why he’d gone,’ I said. ‘How could you lie like that? How could you sit there, listening to me sobbing, knowing it was all your fault? And that you’d seduced him?’
My stomach twisted with the painful memory. Daisy was shaking her head now, tears falling down her cheeks. A girl on the next table turned her head towards us, then looked away.
‘It wasn’t like that,’ she said softly. ‘I was drunk. I didn’t know what I was doing. It wasn’t like I planned it. I didn’t intend to seduce him.’
I shook my head, leaned in closer.
‘But Ethan told me what happened,’ I said, my voice pleading. ‘He told me you’d taken off all your clothes and waited for him in your bedroom. Daisy, I know what happened. Don’t try to deny it, just tell me the truth, please. Don’t try to make yourself look better, because from where I’m sitting, you’ve played really dirty.’
My voice was wobbling all over the place. I gripped the edge of the table and told myself to keep calm. Something I said struck a chord with her, because her body seemed to go completely rigid. She stared at me sternly.
‘You have no idea,’ Daisy said, an edge of chilling anger in her voice. ‘You have absolutely no fucking idea.’
How dare she, I thought. How dare she turn this around like this?
‘What are you talking about?’ I hissed. ‘You seduced my boyfriend then threatened him to end our relationship or you’d tell me what happened. Why would you want to wreck my life like that? Daisy, I thought we loved one another. I have always loved you so much. I know we’re different people, different personalities, but I don’t get this. What was it? Were things going a little too well for me? You jealous bitch!’
I was shaking with anger now and the girl on the next table couldn’t stop looking at me. I felt like shouting at the top of my voice, telling the entire cafe exactly what Daisy had done. Mostly, I felt like crying.
‘What are you doing?’ I said, as Daisy began collecting her things up from the table, pushing on her sunglasses. I grabbed her wrist. ‘Don’t you dare go! You owe me an explanation.’
She ripped off her sunglasses and wiped her eyes, now pouring with angry tears. Her lips were white round the edges and tiny beads of sweat had collected between her mouth and nose. Guilty as hell, I thought. Guilty as hell.
‘OK, you can have your explanation,’ she said, her voice cracking with emotion. She stood up, pushed her chair back and picked up her handbag. ‘But let’s walk.’
Chapter Twenty-Two
Outside in the street, the heat was stifling. I clung to the shops’ cooling shadows, while Daisy walked near the kerb in direct sunlight. You’d never know we were going anywhere together, or indeed that we were sisters.
‘Over there,’ Daisy said, pointing to a small park across the road from her office, with a playground and area of grass where a couple of drunks sat on benches nursing cans of lager, a bin next to them spilling over with rubbish. When she lifted her arm, I smelt her perfume, Chanel No. 19, the same our mum had worn. I walked closer to her, struck by the ironic significance of that. I nodded once.
‘Let’s walk round there,’ she said dully, glancing at her watch. ‘I need to get to work. I have a Monday meeting . . .’
Her words were half drowned in the surrounding din of traffic, but I nodded again in agreement. We walked in tense silence for a few seconds, then, after turning into the park, Daisy stopped dead. Her jaw tightened while she seemed to think of what to say. She faced me while holding on to the strap of her handbag, like she might get mugged at any moment.
‘I was in love with Ethan before you ever met him, OK?’ she said quietly. ‘Totally smitten, if you must know. I had the future all planned out.’
Stunned, I stared at her but didn’t speak.
‘I met him at his parents’ deli,’ she continued. ‘I went in there every day for lunch, when I was at my old job. Spent a small fortune. We became friendly and went out for coffee a couple of times. I thought he liked me, so I invited him out with my friends and they all loved him, so he became part of our gang. Nothing physical ever happened between us, and I never admitted how I felt, but I assumed he must have known. Then, at the winter picnic, I invited you too. I went off to the shops and when I came back, something had happened between you. Something unstoppable. I knew you’d get on, because you both loved food, but I had no idea that you’d fall in love. From that night you were locked together. What could I say in the face of your togetherness? I saw him first? Give him back? He’s mine, for fuck’s sake? What?’
Daisy’s eyes brimmed with angry tears. I racked my brains for memories of Daisy expressing any interest in Ethan, but couldn’t recall a thing. Yes, she’d introduced me to him quite proudly, but I’d stupidly mistaken that for her sisterly pride in me.
‘You never said anything,’ I said. ‘I mean, before I even met him. You never even mentioned Ethan. Then you started dating Iain. How was I supposed to know?’
I looked at her face. She was frowning and trying hard not to cry.
‘I didn’t have a chance to say anything,’ she said. ‘You were busy with your life, I was busy with mine. I liked the thought that people would be able to tell that me and Ethan were attracted to each other. I wanted you to spot it at the winter picnic, that he and I had a connection. Anyway, what was happening in my life was never a priority for you.’
Daisy folded her arms grumpily across her chest.
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ I said, pulling a face. ‘You were always a priority, but I’m your little sister, three years behind you. You’ve never really told me about your love life. Anyway, I didn’t think we had to be that formal with one another. We’re sisters. We love each other. It’s an unwritten rule, isn’t it? That we put each other first?’
Daisy shrugged.
‘You took Ethan from under my nose so you hardly put me first then,’ she said. ‘But I convinced myself you couldn’t be right for one another because I thought he was my destiny. You messed it all up for me, OK?’
I exhaled loudly and pushed my hair away from my forehead. I didn’t know how to react. I was angry, but confused. Daisy was turning the blame around and now I was feeling somehow guilty.
I couldn’t believe that I was about to apologize.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said reluctantly. ‘But I had no idea. You didn’t say anything and clearly nothing was going to happen between you, because nothing ever did.’
Then I remembered the reason why we were there. Daisy turned to me and caught my eye.
‘Hmm,’ Daisy said, with a lift of her eyebrows. ‘But something did happen, didn’t it? Which proves what I had begun to believe. That he was no good for either of us.’
I shook my head in astonishment, amazed, in a detached way, at what an impact you can have on other people’s lives without even realizing it.
‘Nothing happened until the night of our party, though, did it?’ I said crossly. ‘But Ethan seemed to think he was doing you a favour by sleeping with you. He said you were a wreck and that he felt sorry for you. That should tell you something.’
I wanted to hurt Daisy for hurting me, but I immediately felt ashamed of the cruelty in my words. Disappointment crossed over Daisy’s face. Her eyes narrowed.
‘You took him away from me,’ she said. ‘You knew what you were doing.’
I let out a bitter laugh and a homeless guy drinking cider looked over at us.
‘Are you joking?’ I said, exasperated. ‘I would never, ever do something like that. Ethan and I fell in love. I had no idea you even liked him. In fact, when we were together, you actively disliked him. You never turned up for nights out when I invited you. When he came to Dad’s for Sunday lunch you made excuses most of the time . . .’
Daisy rolled her eyes and took a deep breath.
‘Why do you think I did that?’ she said. ‘It was torture watching you two together, all over one another like a rash. Imagine how I felt, will you? Just imagine for one second. It should have been me sitting there hand in hand with Ethan.’
I started to think Daisy had completely lost the plot. She had imagined an entire relationship with my boyfriend. I felt slightly spooked.
‘But, Daisy, you’re being insane,’ I said. ‘You didn’t actually have a relationship with him, did you? It was all in your head. It was Ethan and I who actually had a relationship and you ruined that by throwing yourself at him. You wrecked it for me because you couldn’t have him yourself, and, to me, that is pretty fucking vindictive and weirdly obsessive. How could you do that to me, your own sister?’
Daisy’s eyes filled and she started to cry. She scrabbled in her bag for a tissue and blew her nose, which turned bright pink.
‘I have always tried to be there for you,’ she said, openly crying. ‘But since Mum died, everything has always been about you. Dad was obsessed with the way you tried to keep our family going by learning how to cook just like Mum. It was disgusting the way you behaved. You even put her clothes on and used her perfume. You freaked me out.’
I grabbed her wrist.
‘I was a child!’ I half shouted. ‘I wanted her back! And you’re wearing her bloody perfume now!’
She shook her wrist free, dried her eyes and started to walk away. I followed her, feeling so angry I wanted to grab her and shake her.
‘You and Dad were so close,’ she continued. ‘I wanted in on the act too, but no, it was all about you and how hard you were trying and how well you were doing. It made me sick, so I decided to get my own life together. To go to university, to get a good job, to get out and do it all myself because that was how it was always going to be. Me, all by myself.’
My eyes widened as Daisy spoke. I saw my entire history as a deflating balloon. The efforts I’d made, not even consciously, to keep the three of us close-knit had sickened her. Couldn’t she have seen that I was trying my best?
‘But . . . but . . .’ I said, walking faster to keep up with her. ‘I did all that because I missed her, simple as that. I wanted to make you and Dad feel better. I couldn’t stand the misery in our house. It was oppressive. Anyway, this is about Ethan. You ruined my relationship. Couldn’t you just have been happy for us?’
Daisy stopped walking suddenly and sat down heavily on a bench. She pushed her sunglasses on top of her head and blinked in the sun.
‘I just wanted to have something for myself,’ she said wearily. ‘You’ve always had everything on a plate. I’ve spent my life working hard, being sensible, missing Mum and wishing you and Dad liked me more. But then I got fed up. I wanted Ethan. Or just the knowledge that he was attracted to me. That was enough, and I justified it to myself as a test. He was no good for you if he’d be seduced by me. I was doing you a favour.’
‘That’s insane . . . and twisted and stupid!’ I spat. ‘And I haven’t had everything on a plate! What are you talking about? Jesus, Daisy, this is a head-fuck. This is all because you were jealous.’
She went to stand up so I grabbed her arm, but she shrugged me off, almost violently.
‘I just wanted something . . . someone . . . for myself,’ she said. ‘I had Mum but then she died. Is that so difficult to understand?’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘It’s difficult to understand when it’s my boyfriend you’re talking about. Christ! What about Iain? You had him, didn’t you? Why couldn’t you just get on with that?’
Daisy looked up at the sky for a second, as if remembering something, then checked her watch. Her face hardened.
‘I need to go to work,’ she said. ‘Iain was a wanker. Don’t even talk about him. I can’t bear to talk about him now.’
‘I know he was an arsehole about your pregnancy and I can’t believe he doesn’t want anything to do with Benji,’ I said. ‘But you had a relationship with him, so what are you talking about, never finding anyone to love you? You must have loved each other for a while.’
I felt suddenly exhausted and my shoulders slumped. I wished I had some water, because my mouth was dry. Daisy pulled her bag higher up her shoulder, stood up and began to walk away from me.
‘I have to go,’ she said. I followed her, feeling completely deflated.
‘But, Daisy,’ I said, lifting my hands up in the air and letting them fall to my sides. ‘This . . . it’s . . . it’s all a massive mess . . . what are we going to do?’
‘I don’t know,’ she said, chewing her lips.
We walked towards the exit together, Daisy’s words racing through my mind. I followed her a little way, then stopped and lingered by the bus stop outside her work, while she stomped off through the main revolving doors, not turning to speak or wave goodbye. I felt sick and leaned against a wall, took out my mobile phone, intending to call Isabel, when my own words struck a dark chord deep in my heart.
I can’t believe Iain doesn’t want anything to do with Benji, I’d said.
I’d never been able to understand why Iain hadn’t wanted to know Benji. Iain had been friendly, warm and kind. Maybe he was a bit flaky and non-committal, but Daisy’s description of his reaction to Benji’s birth suddenly seemed unbelievable. A lie. It dawned on me that there was another reason Daisy never wanted to speak about Iain. I stood still as the stocks, while a woman barged past me, tutting in frustration. I thought of Benji’s birth. I ran through the dates in my mind. I did the maths. I pictured Benji’s shock of soft black hair. I sucked in my breath and stopped breathing. I put my hand on my heart, feeling my heartbeat pounding in my teeth. My head ached and I flushed boiling hot, breaking out into a clammy sweat. The bus approaching blurred into a fuzzy red splodge and, though it was a brilliantly bright day, the world became dark as granite as my legs gave way beneath me. Now it all made sickening sense.
Benji was Ethan’s son.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Still on the pavement by the bus stop, I came round seconds later, while a middle-aged woman I didn’t know, with very short bright blonde hair, helped me put my head in between my knees.
‘It’ll help the blood rush back to your head,’ she said, gently holding my shoulders. ‘Something like that. I’m not a nurse, but it’s common sense.’
The contents of my bag were strewn across the floor: lipstick, pocket
mirror, wallet, scissors, phone, cafe keys and a tube of mints. And I thought, that’s how I feel now: all emptied out, scattered about.
‘Just stay like that for a few minutes and breathe,’ the woman said. ‘And here, I’ve got a new bottle of water in my bag. I got it free on the Tube. You should have some water and be in the shade. It’s pretty hot. Do you want me to call an ambulance or your boyfriend or friend?’
I shook my head and blinked, fuzzy spots stretching and shifting before my eyes. I glanced up and tried to focus, seeing a bus full of people staring at me and the lady’s peacock-feather earrings close by. I looked down at my knees and closed my eyes.
‘No, thank you,’ I muttered shakily. ‘Just give me a minute and I’ll be—’
A picture of Benji as a newborn, attached to Daisy’s breast, as she lay in a narrow bed in King’s College Hospital, her hair over her bare shoulders, a look of pure devotion in her eyes, was burned onto the back of my eyelids. Daisy had lied. Not only about her affair with Ethan, but that Benji was Ethan’s son. How could she? I suddenly knew it with such certainty my blood ran cold. Daisy had Ethan’s baby and he knew nothing about it. I was dumbfounded. My world was skewed, as if it were a snowstorm globe that someone had picked up and shaken about so violently all the miniature characters had fallen on their heads.
‘Are you sure you’re OK?’ the woman said. ‘Do you think you can stand up? You look very pale.’
Gradually, my vision cleared and, with her holding my arm, I stood up, dusting off the back of my shorts, taking a sip from the woman’s water bottle and forcing a smile. Her eyes were full of concern as she handed me my bag, which she had stuffed with my things.
‘I’m so sorry,’ I said, taking the bag. ‘Thanks for helping me. I’m going to get a cab. I don’t know what happened. Maybe it’s the heat . . .’